Seasons Of Life
by tielan
Summary: The twists and turns of life are strange indeed.


**NOTES**: Written for the sgaflashfic challenge 'school'.**  
**

**Seasons Of Life**

It was a harsh winter in Athos the year Teyla turned eight. Their attempts at barter were unsuccessful in securing enough food for the season and many went hungry.

Wind beat against the reinforced tent hides, trying to find the way into the crowded lodging, trying to eke its way into the tent in slender, eddying fingers. Teyla curled up next to her friend Arran, who put an arm around her for warmth, and waited for dinner.

There wasn't much. And she remembered hesitating over her meal when she saw one of the elders accept only half a bowl of the thin grain-soup that was their main fare this winter.

"Just eat, Teyla," her mother said, brushing back her hair as Arran ate his food with gusto.

"But Laynal has not enough to satisfy her." Even at eight, she recognised that.

Her mother bent close. "There is not enough to go around to satisfy us all," she said. "So some of us have less."

"Why does Laynal have less?"

"She gave up some of hers so someone else might eat a little more."

Teyla peered in her mother's bowl, which didn't seem much more full than Laynal's, and held up her own. "Do you wish for some of mine?"

"No," said her mother, kissing her head. "But it is thoughtful of you to offer."

Laynal didn't make it through the winter.

--

Her mother sensed it first, lifting her head as they gleaned for mushrooms out in the woods. Teyla took a few seconds to realise her mother's attention lay elsewhere, and then she felt it - the bubbling consciousness of something in her mind.

Even before her mother spoke, she had an inkling of what it must be. "The Wraith are coming."

They ran through the woods, even as the craft speared through the air, a shimmer of silver in the sky that caught up their people and took them away. There were screams as some people were taken and others could do nothing but watch - and run to survive.

She and her mother panted their way through the forest, every tree and woodhollow familiar and unhelpful. They could not rest - there was nowhere that the Wraith wouldn't sense them. They could not stop - to stop was to give up.

They could only run.

For all that she beat children older and stronger than her in training, Teyla was still only twelve. And twelve tired so easily.

"I cannot," she gasped when she stumbled from weariness and fell to her knees.

Her mother urged her up, the dark eyes intent. "Teyla, get up! Get up now!"

She let herself be hauled to her feet, but the dart was nearly upon them and there were few places to run.

There was an awful inevitability about the deadly curtain of white that shimmered behind the silver arrow in the afternoon light. Teyla turned to run and knew that it was hopeless - the beam was too broad, the turn-off too far, and there was nowhere to go.

She felt her mother's hand on her back, gripping the collar of her tunic so the neck rode up, cutting off Teyla's breath. At first she thought her mother had tripped, for the shove that slammed into her was hard enough to throw her into the muddy embankment by the path.

The Wraith craft screamed through the air above them, a whine of metal and machine and a light so bright it stung eyes accustomed to the shaded woods. Then it was gone.

Teyla tumbled to her knees in the leaf mulch of the path, the scent of soil and mud strong in her nostrils as she climbed to her feet. She began wiping her hands on her tunic as she looked around. "Mama--"

It was then she realised her mother was not there.

Her father wept when she walked into camp, and Teyla wept with him.

--

Arran only laughed as she splashed him, his bronzed body gleaming with water and sweat as he caught her up in his arms and angled for a kiss.

Men, Teyla decided, were entirely too smug about sexual prowess - even if this one was a very satisfying bedmate. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, pressing her bare skin against his and feeling the tremor of satisfaction in his chest.

"Teyla! Arran!" Another of their hunting party catcalled from the bank. "You have a tent!"

She broke off the kiss. "Do not tell me that you do not enjoy watching, Misa!"

Misa smirked and lifted her eyes heavenwards, even as another of their party burst from the trees. "The herd is sighted!"

That ended all thoughts of bed.

"You are not going like that!" Teyla glared at Arran as he bound his knifebelt around his waist without even putting on a shirt. Further up the bank, the others were scrambling for their clothing, weapons, and vests. "What of armour?"

He grinned at her. "My love for you will armour me against all injury."

The Ancestors spare her from a man in love! Teyla shook her head at him, amused but in too much of a hurry to press the point. If it was a matter of pride for Arran to fight barechested, then she wasn't going to stop him. Still. "If I must drag your injured carcass back to the camp, then you will not think so lovingly of me!"

Arran bent to kiss her, laughing. "Promise?"

Afterwards, they found him gored through the thigh by a razor-sharp horn, the scarlet tide of his blood staining the ground as amber-flecked eyes stared up at an empty sky.

They'd only been lovers two days.

--

Her people looked at her with such trust, such belief. It weighed heavy upon her shoulders.

But her father had made his succession clear: Teyla would lead their people if anything happened to him. She could not relinquish that burden, even if she was not going with them to the mainland.

"You fret too overmuch," Misa said to Teyla as she shuffled her twins out the door to join the other children on their way to the 'jumpers that would take them away. "Since your father died, you have been planning out our activities with the turning of the seasons. We will survive and we will thrive."

"I simply wish--" Teyla hesitated. "I will miss you."

A part of her did want to stay with her people, but another part of her was drawn here - to the people who had come from their planet so far away, in search of Atlantis and the Ancestors, whom Major Sheppard's people called the Ancients.

Her friend smiled as she picked up her pack. "And I, you," she said, not without sympathy. "But," and now there was a laughing twinkle in the dark eyes, "you will have Major Sheppard here, so I do not think you will miss us for long."

Some of the Athosians - mostly those her own age - had already begun teasing her about the major. Particularly in light of the fact that she had disappeared with him just before the Wraith attacked Athos. Her people considered it long past time that Teyla considered a mate - but none of the men of her people interested her.

Teyla rolled her eyes and pushed her friend towards the door in friendly jostling. "I have changed my mind. I will not miss you at all!"

Misa laughed, turning and hugging her. "Oh, Teyla. I really will miss you. If nothing else, I will have no-one else to tease."

"And that is more than enough reason for you to go," Teyla replied wryly.

There was a hollow in her heart when she thought of ruined Athos and the land they'd left behind - to have lost their home, and now to be losing her people...

The other woman was still watching her, although a little more solemnly. After a moment, Misa took Teyla's shoulders and bent their heads together in Athosian salute. "You will not lose us, Teyla, any more than we will lose you. And you are our leader still, whatever distance. Come see us and you will be welcome."

Still, Teyla watched her people leave with more than a little apprehension. Somehow, she suspected this separation would be longer than any of them expected.

It was difficult to live away from her people, but Teyla hoped it would be worth the price.

--

Teyla ran through the corridors of the warehouse, uncertain of how she knew where to go, only that this was the way out. Behind her sounded the chatter of a P-90 firing, the yelps and whimpers of those creatures shot. There was a moment's pause, before the steady whump of Ronon's weapon echoed through the cement walls.

They'd wondered why the Gennii abandoned this outpost. Now they knew.

Colonel Sheppard jogged up beside her, only a step behind. "Are you sure you know where you're going?"

"Yes." There was no way to explain it to him - like describing an oiliphaunt to a blind man. She _knew_ the way out of here. She knew which way they had to go.

"Okay." He seemed to accept that as he ran behind her, following her lead.

A moment later she heard him drop back and Ronon came up alongside her. Now the echoing sounds were the unsteady shots of Rodney's gun - more noise and distraction than anything else, for his aim was very bad.

"How far?"

"I do not..." But her mind was already tracking ahead and provided the answer. "Not far," she said and knew it for the truth. The air was fresher here, strong with the scent of grass, dirt, and leaves..

"Breeze," Ronon said with satisfaction. They were close. He dropped back, freeing Rodney to come up beside her, huffing and panting.

"This really isn't good for me."

In spite of the tension of their situation, Teyla smiled. "I know." Rodney was not a warrior, not a fighter the way she and the Colonel and Ronon had been trained. "It will be over soon. One way or another."

"Oh, see," Rodney panted, "not helping at all!"

Still, desperation and fear gave a man unexpected reserves of strength. Teyla caught his arm and helped him up the slope towards the 'jumper as both Colonel Sheppard and Ronon held the wolves back.

At the top, she turned, taking up her weapon and firing at the oncoming wolves as the Colonel scrambled up the hill. Teyla and Ronon covered his retreat, and then Teyla peppered the oncoming pack with bullets while Ronon climbed the hill.

Ronon's gun took care of the beasts that tried to slip in the door as it closed. Their yipping howls died away as the closing door cut out the noise. Teyla flipped the safety on her weapon and gained her seat even as the Colonel lifted the ship into the air with nothing more than a thought.

"You know, I never want to have to run like that again," Rodney said as he buckled himself into his chair behind the Colonel.

Teyla couldn't help her smile as she prepared to dial the Atlantis gate. "Then I believe you are in the wrong job, Rodney."

"And the wrong galaxy," Ronon added.

She thought Colonel Sheppard was concentrating on the approaching Stargate, but the glance he gave her was oddly piercing. "How _did_ you know the way out of there?"

When she paused, unable to tell him, he shrugged. "Well, good work. However it was done."

It was only then that the full weight of her team-mates' trust came home to her.

--

Sexual relationships were conducted differently among his people. Teyla understood that. There were more formalities, more uncertainties, and their concepts of sexuality were rather different to those espoused among the Athosians.

In two years, she thought she had learned the signals that indicated that a man of Atlantis was sexually interested in her.

She was surprised to be wrong.

"Teyla?" The uncertainty in his expression - in his voice - was nothing like the cold curiosity after that first kiss - unexpected and unwelcome when he was infected with the Iratus retrovirus. Now he looked in her eyes, and his thumb rubbed across her cheek, a soft caress, seeking assurance, waiting for her answer.

Teyla sucked gently on her lip, exploring the taste he'd left in her mouth, the sweet and sour flavours of his kiss on her tongue. He need not have worried, she was surprised but not uninterested. Disinterest was never the problem between them.

"Colonel--" She paused, seeking the words that seemed inadequate.

He dropped his hands, tucked them into his pants pockets. "I don't really have an excuse for that." Teyla realised it was his way of backing out of the situation.

"I do not need an excuse," she told him gently and saw him wince.

"I do."

It came to her in a tremor of clarity. "Then use this excuse," she murmured as she approached him. "Say I kissed you back." Then she took his head in her hands and put words to action.

Her lips moved across his, slow and delicate, tasting him as he'd tasted her. Her breath caught in her throat as his mouth opened to hers, deepening the kisses, until they drank deep of each other.

Teyla had forced herself to see him as a friend, nothing more. If she had ever considered him interested, she had dismissed that idea. They were friends and team-mates who enjoyed each other's company and shared a complex relationship that did not include sex.

For some reason, John had chosen to change the rules.

She was reminded of something her father once said: _People change. So should your perceptions._

Next morning, Teyla woke with John's arm around her waist, his front pressed against her back.

--

_Life is a mentor_, said Charon. _A strange one: full of events and people, joy and heartache. What you learn from it and pass to others will depend on you._

Teyla has kept some moments of her life clear of the blurring finger of time and forgetfulness: Laynal's sacrifice, her mother's loss, the brevity of what she shared with Arran, the lonely cost of leading her people, her team's trust in her abilities and skills, the changing face of John Sheppard's care for her.

And there is more yet to come. She knows this as she stands on the balcony over the Gateroom and watches Major Lorne's team depart from the city of the Ancestors - Atlantis. Three years ago, she would never have dreamed this scene, and today she stands here and does not marvel at it.

So much change. So many lessons.

The twists and turns of fate are strange indeed.

Life is a mentor.

- **fin **-

**FEEDBACK**: is a wonderful, wonderful thing.


End file.
